


the moments between

by rageynerd



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Episode: s01e10 The Moment of Truth, Fic Exchange, Internal Monologue, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, The Ealdor episode, but for now, episode rewrite, i wanted to write more but i havent slept in four months sorry if this sucks, same episode same gay tension i just filled in the blanks, will probably add more later!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26099689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rageynerd/pseuds/rageynerd
Summary: set during Season 1, Episode 10: The Moment of Truth.Follows the episode pretty closely. I basically took the iconic Ealdor episode and made it gayer, if that was possible.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 40
Collections: Merlin Twitter Summer Exchange





	the moments between

**Author's Note:**

  * For [temporalSilence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/temporalSilence/gifts).



> Written for the Merlin Twitter Summer Exchange.

The way Merlin cares for his mother makes Arthur miss his own. It strikes him right in the heart.

“You’ll be coming back?” he asks, staring at Merlin’s black hair blowing into his eyes. Outside on the battlement, looking over his kingdom with this man, he feels a sort of anger for his father that he doesn’t remember ever feeling before. Not quite like this.

Because here’s the thing: even as he dreads it, he knows the choice Merlin is going to make. He knows with a certainty that resounds like an echo in his chest, deep and hollow from where his heart dropped to the bottom, that Merlin will not choose him.

It makes sense. Arthur understands wanting to protect family like that. And he means it when he says he’d do exactly the same. But still he cannot help the way he has hoped, in a selfishness beyond reason, that Merlin would decide to return. 

He cannot help the way he wishes Merlin found it as inconceivable to be apart from him as he found it to be away from Merlin.

He stares out at Camelot resolutely so he will not have to look Merlin in the eyes.

It is time for goodbyes, then.

“Well.” Arthur takes a deep breath and faces him. “You’ve been terrible.”

Merlin smiles. _You’ve been delightful._

“Really, I mean it— the worst manservant I’ve ever had.” _The best friend I’ve ever had._

“Thank you, sire.” This time, when he smiles, his eyes crinkle. Arthur basks in it. How is he supposed to let him go? 

*** 

The campfire is crackling, creating visions in its embers, and they are all of Camelot.

Hunith sits with Merlin, watching the flames dwindle down with the night, and Merlin knows she is worrying. He can _feel_ her worrying.

“Promise me you’ll be careful,” she demands.

“They won’t find out. They never do.”

Hunith says nothing. When she lays down for the night, Merlin lifts the embers and creates a dragon, his thoughts of Arthur keeping it glowing bright in the darkness.

***

Just as Merlin is falling asleep to the sound of his mother’s breathing, he hears leaves crunching.

He blinks back the sleepiness and grabs his sword. Someone is here for them.

Slowly, he moves around the perimeter of their makeshift camp and holds his sword out as threateningly as he can manage, even though he possesses zero knowledge of swordsmanship. 

The crunching becomes louder behind him, and just as he’s about to turn around—

He feels the tip of a sword press against his back, and he stills. _Think, Merlin. Are there any spells to get out of this?_

“I’d ask you for money,” the voice drawls behind him, “but I know you don’t have any.”

Merlin smiles. Arthur.

 _Wait—_ “ARTHUR?” 

Merlin swings around and grins, still holding his sword, nearly taking his prince’s head off. His grin turns sheepish, but it never fades. He is so happy to see him— if Arthur’s near-decapitation hasn’t woken his mother, his beating heart will. It races so fast he thinks it may dive out of his chest and into Arthur’s own, melding together. 

One coin with two sides. 

One heart with two beats, hammering in synchrony.

But Merlin has never been more aware of the delusions in his head. He is Arthur’s manservant. He polishes his boots. He stokes his fire. He does not warm his bed.

“Put the sword down, Merlin,” Arthur says, standing upright from his crouch. He brushes past Merlin, roughly knocking shoulders on the way. “You look ridiculous.”


End file.
